Away From the Sun
by ComicBookFreak
Summary: Post finale fic. A teenage Alex Katsopolis struggles with feeling lost and alone in a world where he feels nobody cares for him. Rated T for language and dark themes. CH 1 up.


_**Away From the Sun  
**_**By:** ComicBookFreak

**Summary:** A teenage Alex Katsopolis struggles with being young, hopeless, and alone in a world where he feels nobody cares for him.

**Timeframe:** 2008, fourteen years following the series finale of _Full House_.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Full House_ or any of its original characters. I also do not own the lyrics to "Bad Day" by Daniel Powter.

**Chapter 1-** "Bad Day"

Alexander Katopolis gazed out the window of his twin brother's maroon Ford Taurus, with his head leaning back against the headrest. He tried to drown out the sounds of Nick arguing with his girlfriend on his cell phone for the umpteenth time, losing himself in the scenery that depicted a multitude of San Franciscan lifestyles. The streets they passed were lined with shops, as well as tourists and city goers. There were also families enjoying picnics in the park, and adults out for their afternoon jog. But what stimulated Alex the most was the nearby San Francisco Bay, which was scoured with whitecaps and gleamed a shiny, yet in many ways lifeless gray, much like everything else in the seventeen-year-old's life.

Alex wasn't an outcast, he just didn't live up to the potential everybody knew he had. Everybody but him, that was. It didn't help any that his family was so accomplished when all he was known for was being shy, insecure, and learning disabled.

His father, Jesse, was a disc jockey of the "Rush Hour Renegades" show on one of the Bay Area's radio rock stations with his old pal, who was also Alex's godfather and one of the drollest adults he knew. Before the twins were born, and even before he had met their mother, Jesse had been something of a San Francisco celebrity, not to mention an Elvis Presley wannabe. His most recent band, Hot Daddy and the Monkey Puppets, had split up around the time when the twins were in kindergarten. However, his rock n' roll panache was still a part of him, and Alex wished he could say he respected him for it. The sad fact was, Alex and his father had had a wedge driven in their relationship for most of his life, especially since he had entered high school, and he found very little that the two of them had in common.

It was the opposite with his mother, Rebecca Donaldson. Besides being the host of the city-renown talk show _Wake-up, San Francisco_, Becky was the most nurturing mother anybody could have asked for. Becky had always assured her son that she had been just as shy as a teenager, and that had been her primary motivation for pursuing journalism as a career. Alex had met the teacher, whom Alex was the namesake of, who had helped her realize this vocation only once.

Although their appearances said otherwise, Alex was the exact converse of his twin brother, who had made people stop calling him Nicky in third grade. Even with their similar hazel eyes and golden-brown hair, it was easy to tell them apart. Nick had been a sports fanatic from the beginning, and it was obvious with his prime positions on the Bay View High School varsity soccer, baseball, and basketball teams. Nick was also nowhere near the bottom of the social barrel in the senior class, which was accented by his cheerleader girlfriend, Jenna Mullins, and many teammates.

Although his passion for music had been passed on to neither of his twins, Jesse shouldn't have worried. When Nick and Alex were nine years old, Becky had given birth to her third child, the boys' little brother, David. Unlike the twins, who had taken after their mother for the most part, Davie was a dead ringer of Jesse, with his dark hair and eyes, and, most essentially, ear for music. At age eight, Davie had already learned to play the bass guitar and keyboard. It had been his father's pleasure to instruct his son on systematizing his own mock-band with a couple friends. Davie was the epitome of a daddy's boy, and this was something that had been apparent from the moment he left the womb.

What had been even more apparent was the fact that Alex, particularly during his high school years, felt light-years away from the talent and confidence that constituted the Katsopolis family.

At last, Nick pulled the car into the driveway of the medium-sized two-story house their parents had had specially built and had moved into after Becky found out she was pregnant with Davie. Glad to be distracted from his thoughts, Alex tossed his book bag over his shoulder, and slammed the car door.

"Do you have to slam it so loud?" Nick asked as he turned off the engine. He had always been overly-particular about anything he had spent a cent on himself. Not that Alex could have complained; Nick had saved money from his paper route over a span of five years in order to purchase the used vehicle that got them to and from school every day. Although Nick had promised their parents that he would share the car with Alex, it was usually expected that he needed it to get somewhere.

Alex gave an annoyed grunt in reply and headed toward the door that led from the garage to the inside of the house. The place was alive with a blaring television, cooking smells, and his mother chatting on the telephone. It was six o'clock, which meant that their father was still at work.

It was said that before he was born, his mother had been less than talented in the kitchen. However, somewhere since before he could remember, she had gained a touch, and never failed to set a fabulous meal on the table. Alex would sure miss them when he left for college.

Alex took out his assignment planner to double check if he had any homework or studying to do, or, more realistically, any tasks in which he just had to copy down answers and set aside without a second thought. Seeing that he had nothing but a history test, he set the planner on the table. He then went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of diet Pepsi.

"Hey, Dave, can I borrow your portable DVD player?" Alex asked.

The younger boy, who was sitting at the island that served as their kitchen table, nodded, lost in his _Rolling Stone for Kids_ magazine.

Once he had set up the eight-by-eight inch Panasonic DVD player with his Season One _Smallville_ disc, he sat down on the back porch with his Pepsi and a bag of tortilla chips.

Alex hated to admit it, but he was a fan of most of the same TV shows as his parents, who were into soap opera, drama shows such as _Housewives_, _Lost_, and _Commander in Chief_. He was also into action and suspense shows such as _Law and Order _and _Boston Legal._ Alex had been making it a goal to become more in tune with the programs his brother, and other guys their age, for that matter, were into, such as _Sportscenter_. He had to confess that one thing he had inherited from his father was a disinterest in sports when he was younger.

It was hard to enjoy the episode he had watched several times before with the thought that he would soon have to go to work hanging over his head. It had been distracting him all day that he would be working his first shift at CVS Pharmacy from seven o'clock to eleven o'clock. Four hours. It was hard not to sulk, especially since he knew he would have to get up early the next morning and work again.

Becky had been able to sense his bad mood the moment he walked in, as usual. "What's with the face?" she asked her son as she came in to see what he was up to.

"Oh. I just don't want to have to work today."

Becky smiled sympathetically. "Well, just think how relieved you'll be when you're handed that paycheck a week from today."

_Ever the optimist_, Alex thought. "Yeah, it's just so late." He didn't bother to refrain from whining.

Becky then changed the subject. "Shouldn't you be studying for your test in history tomorrow?"

Alex turned to look at her, annoyed. "Why were you looking through my stuff?"

"It was sitting on the island," Becky defended herself.

Alex sighed. "Okay, fine. But I'm ready."

Becky saw right through him. "Honey, your grades are really important this year," she said seriously. _Here we go again,_ Alex thought. "They determine which colleges will accept you. And I only want you to have the best."

"I already told you, I'm fine with getting an apartment and going to community college to be a paramedic." Alex knew he would never sell the idea to his mother, but figured it was worth yet another try.

"Well, I'm not," Becky retorted. "I'd love to know how you think you're going to pay for your own pad when you haven't had a job in months and only have two-hundred dollars in your savings account."

"Fine, I'm kidding." Alex really didn't feel like talking anymore, especially about how he always felt unprepared and crunched for time whenever he took a test. The promises to do better next time were decaying in meaning, and he wasn't ready to admit it.

"Just please think about it. I'll be in the kitchen if you need help," Becky said, rubbing her son's shoulder. She then stood up and left the porch.

Alex forced his thoughts from his mind, and reentered the world of small-screen television, the one place where he was comfortable with being himself.

* * *

The thing Alex had always hated most about meeting people, especially so many at a time, was the fact that he always felt anxious and bored in their company. The only thing he had imagined was worse than feeling anxious and bored was feeling humiliated. 

And he was right.

Breathing heavily and blinking his burning eyes, Alex forced himself to focus on the road and not lose control of Nick's Taurus. He had felt too ashamed of himself to even turn on the radio, or stop for a café mocha at Caribou Coffee, which he had planned to do to reward himself.

He was such a failure. He had seen signs throughout his life, but now he knew it for sure. He should have always known. It shouldn't have been a wonder that he had been fired from Dairy Queen the summer before, or maintained a D-average in school. It was also no wonder that he had never had a girlfriend, or barely had anything noteworthy about his personality. He couldn't blame this on his parents; they were both successful, confident entertainment figures throughout San Francisco. Then there was his twin brother, who was a Bay View High athletic legend, and Davie, who was a child rock n' roll prodigy. He couldn't point any fingers at his genetic makeup.

Memories of being teased in seventh grade and running to the bathroom to hide his tears came back to haunt him. Nobody had ever teased him for "acting like a girl," because he hid it so well. Underneath it all, he was way more sensitive than any teenage boy, or man, for that matter, had a license to be.

All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide from the world. He deserved to be somewhere alone, away from the sun and shrouded in darkness, as he had pretty much been for his entire life.

It wasn't until Alex pulled into the Katsopolises' driveway that he turned the key in the ignition and stared down at his lap. The feelings of anger and hurt from the pain he had just experienced returned, only full-fledged this time. There was no way he could walk into that house without someone, especially his mother, able to determine his state of mind. And why should he hide it? If he was what he had been called back at the pharmacy, it would only be fitting.

Alex shut the door to the car and stormed through the garage door. Once he opened it and saw his little brother seated on the couch watching television, words poured from his mouth like lead. "Turn off the TV. I'm watching it."

"What?" Davie cried, holding the remote control out of reach. "No way!"

In response, Alex stalked toward the TV set and pressed the Power button, shutting the system off.

Davie immediately reacted. "You idiot! What's your problem!" He leapt up from the couch and tried to turn the television back on, but his oldest brother blocked him.

"I said I'm watching it, you little brat!" Alex screamed, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and pushing him. He was too incensed to realize what he was doing.

Davie began throwing punches at Alex with his small fists, and Alex, completely out of control, pounded him twice on the head. It wasn't until Davie started crying loudly that he seemed to calm down.

"Oh, God . . . Dave, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Go away!" the little boy sobbed.

Alex attempted to appease him, mostly because he felt rotten, but partly because he didn't want someone in the house to hear. The last thing he wanted was a second tongue-lashing. However, Becky appeared almost instantaneously in the family room.

"What's going on here?" she demanded, glancing from her eldest to her youngest son. She went to Davie. "What happened, sweetie?"

"He hit me!" Davie said tearfully. "For no reason, too!"

Becky put her arms around Davie, and glared at her son in disgust as he tried to explain. "I—I just wanted to watch TV, and—and he wouldn't let me," Alex stuttered. "I'm sorry, I just got so angry and couldn't control myself."

Becky didn't look impressed. "What are you doing home?"

Her reasonable question somehow sent Alex over the edge. "What do you want from me? I said I was sorry!"

"Go upstairs, Alexander. Right now," Becky said sternly.

"Why!"

"You act like a child, I treat you like one. Now go."

Out of nowhere, Alex's anger melted, and tears sprung to his eyes, falling uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," he said in a broken voice, turning away from his mother's shocked expression. It had been several years since Alex had truly cried in front of anybody. "I'm so sorry, Davie."

He then left the room, and ran up the stairs before his mother could call him back down. Once he was at the top of the stairs, he fell to a sitting position, burying his head in his hands.

How classy of him. He was miffed at his boss for informing him of things that were probably true and firing him on the spot, and he came home and taken his frustration out on an eight-year-old. He really was an idiot.

A small purr that sounded close by broke him out of his painful reverie. He looked up, wiped tears from under his eyes, and smiled sadly at the tiny black, year-old kitten that was advancing toward him. His mother had adopted Salem for him after the family's first cat, Freckles, had died unexpectedly of a kidney ailment. She knew all too well of the impact Freckles' death had had on her son, as he was the primary animal lover in their family. Alex reached out his hand, and the kitten rubbed its face against his fingers

Alex gathered the kitten in his arms, feeling the warmth of the tiny body seep through his shirt. Salem had been less than a pound when they had gotten him, and, ever since, he had never ceased to serve as a sight for sore eyes.

Alex walked toward his room at the end of the hall, toting Salem. He closed the door, released the cat onto his bed, and removed his CVS polo, throwing it in the corner. The reminder sent him into an exasperated frame of mind once again. He put on his Bay View High sweatshirt and sleep pants, and flopped down onto his Queen-sized bed. In no time, Salem had crawled up on his stomach, and began continually pressing his paws against him to get comfortable. Alex stroked the top of his head and behind his ears.

He closed his eyelids, which felt heavy with exhaustion, and didn't open them again until he was startled by a knock on the door. "Come in."

The door opened gently, and Alex already knew who it was. "Hey, boys," Becky said softly, to both her son and the kitten.

"Hey," Alex replied, almost inaudibly.

Becky closed the door behind her and invited herself to come closer to sit on the bed. She patted Salem's back softly. "Did you have a bad time at work? Is that why you came home?"

Once again, Alex felt tears spring to his eyes. Although his mother was an exception, Alex hated showing emotion in front of people. "I'm such an idiot."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Alex propped himself up slightly against the wall so his was sitting. "I screwed up. I knew I would. I entered the wrong amount of money into the cash register, and my boss flipped out. He yelled at me in front of everyone. Coworkers. Costumers. Even children. Then he fired me."

"What? Th—That doesn't make sense." Becky was unpleasantly shocked.

Alex took a deep breath. "He threw the F-word at me in almost every sentence. Said I was an idiotic fag prone to screw-up who would never make it in life. He then asked where I went to school, and then said it didn't matter, because it was probably my fault anyway. He also said that nobody will ever want me to support them, so I didn't need a job anyway. He's right." Alex was furious that his voice had cracked.

Alex then began wondering, why couldn't he handle it? Why couldn't he simply accept that public backbiting happened, and just vow to stay on his good side in the future? Or, better yet, why couldn't he have made the scolding two-way, and been a hero for standing up to the enemy? Bob Sheridan had been right. He wasn't worth anybody's time, and it only shocked him so much because nobody had ever told him up front.

Although he thought he had been filling the silence with his thoughts, Becky had instantly responded. "Oh, honey . . . why would he do that? You made a mistake."

Alex was again in tears. "Because it's true." Becky immediately came closer and gathered her son into her embrace. Alex didn't fight her. "Please don't tell me how great I am, and that I'm worthy of succeeding. I know it's not true." He turned his face on her shoulder and sniffled.

Becky rubbed his back in circles. "Yes, it is, and I refuse to let anybody make you think otherwise. Who is this guy? I'm going to give him a piece of my mind."

In his psychologically weakened state, Alex felt keyed up at her words. "No. Please, Mom, don't. Can we just let it go?"

Becky pulled back and looked at him with serious hazel eyes, so much like his own, still holding his arms. "Baby, he has no right to make you feel like you are not worthy of working there. What he did was wrong, completely wrong, and he has no right to make you feel that way, because it is _not_ true. I won't let him get away with it, and I don't think the government would either. You may have made a mistake, but he handled it wrong. He doesn't know how wonderful you are, how hard you work, how kind you are to other people. He doesn't realize what he's got to lose."

"Please . . . It's not that. I just don't want to go back."

Becky looked into his eyes for a long time, feeling hurt by this man herself. She knew that Alex would learn nothing from his experience if she let him give up, but, more importantly, she wanted to protect him from further hurt. "Of course."

For a split second, Alex's expression was grateful, but his eyes immediately turned downcast, and he looked down. "I didn't even stand up for myself," he muttered, so softly that Becky had to lean forward to hear. "I never do."

Becky lifted a hand to stroke his golden hair out of his watery eyes. "I know it's hard to tell, but everybody feels self-conscious around others, especially in a work environment. We all just have different ways of expressing it. Your boss was probably nervous, and it didn't help that he was probably having a bad day. But I'm not excusing him. He should know better than to take it out on a first-time employee." She paused. Alex didn't respond, but seemed affected by her words as he began petting Salem. "That's what I admire so much about you, Alex. You always regard other people's feelings, even when you aren't feeling great. I can't tell you how unselfish that is."

"Yeah," Alex mumbled. "I'm so considerate that I take my rage out on my little brother."

"We all have our slip-ups. Remember the time I told you about, when your Aunt Connie made me so mad that I put my fist through our window?"

His mother did have a point. Most of the time, Becky was the most even-tempered, thoughtful person he knew, and it was only fair for her to have a breakdown every now and then. Why should he have been any different?

"I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I can't tell you how much your father and I appreciate how mature you are for your age. You never go out and drink, smoke, or sleep around. We sometimes have to worry about your brother, but never you. You've got a lot of qualities to be proud of, honey. You're such a good kid, and the last person to deserve a tongue-lashing while doing your job."

Even though he was convinced that his boss' words had a point, Becky still had a powerful way of cheering him up. Still, he continued to wonder the same thing he had been pondering his entire life. "Why do I have to be so different? Why are some things so hard for me, when they aren't for other?"

"Things are hard for everyone! It all depends on your confidence level. I promise, once you get to college, it will be so much easier to be yourself. There won't be the same teenage pressures to be a certain way. Everybody is concentrating so hard on finding themselves that they don't have time to worry about others. It's a much easier environment to grow in. Not to mention, everybody feels equally stupid having to wear moldy jeans because they forgot to buy laundry detergent, or are looking for the third floor of the building when there are only two."

Alex smiled wanly at her humor. "I still feel stupid."

"That's because you're embarrassed, and hurt. You wouldn't be human if you weren't. And don't worry, everybody's outlook is negative when they're feeling down. It's okay, sweetie. The feeling will fade away, just like a scratch from Salem." Becky touched the kitten's nose.

Alex was glad that he had talked to his mom, but still had one last concern. "Why do I always have to . . . well, _cry_ when I get like this. Only girls are supposed to. I hate that it's so hard to control myself. Dad and Nick don't have a problem with it."

Becky rolled her eyes. "Being macho is overrated. If you can express your emotions in a healthy way, you're actually even more insecure than you think you are. I understand, it's hard to feel vulnerable, especially if you don't know if you can trust the person you lose it in front of. That's the one thing that bothers me about your father. As much as I love him, I've always been worried that he would pass on his tendency to be hung up on masculinity to you boys. Remember the time I told you about him literally freaking out because you and Nick were playing with a baby doll?"

Alex smiled slightly. "Yes, and I remember Nick literally freaking out when you casually mentioned it in front of Jenna."

Becky smiled back and playfully tweaked his chin. "I love you so much, Alex," she said softly, pulling him into a hug again. "And I don't care if you don't believe it yet, because I will keep saying it until I get through to you: _You will be great in life._ You just have to want to be great. I'm telling you, it's all you need."

As Alex settled comfortably in his mother's embrace, he noted that his mind wasn't quite at ease. He still didn't like that he was so much more emotional than other boys. His mother was a woman; of course she would say that it's all right to be sensitive. He knew his father wouldn't be as okay with it.

It also bothered him that his mother seemed to be the only friend he had to talk to. That wasn't he wanted it to be for the rest of his life. He only considered one person from school, Tim O'Malley, to be his friend, and Tim was so wrapped up in himself, that Alex wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Tim only conversed with him when there was nobody else around to gab on about his girlfriend.

After several minutes, Alex and Becky pulled apart. Becky pressed a kiss to his forehead and asked, "How would you like a cup of your favorite hot chocolate?"

"With a whole extra tablespoon of chocolate?" Alex teased. When they had been little, Becky had once added way too much chocolate powder to the cups of cocoa she had made for him and Nick. Nick had instantly spit it out, but Alex had loved the sugary taste. Since then, it had been his absolute favorite treat.

Becky smiled and stood up. "Don't go anywhere." Before exiting out the door, she turned around. "And remember, I'm always here if you need help studying for that _very important history test . . . that will affect your grade . . . college acceptance . . ._"

"Okay, go!" Alex said. Although his tone was playful, he couldn't help but feel down. Becky had said that he would do great things . . . but when? How did she know he wouldn't end up like her two brothers that still lived with their parents? Or alone, like Sheridan had so fervently stated?

_Where is the moment we needed the most  
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost  
They tell me your blue skies fade to grey  
They tell me your passion's gone away  
And I don't need no carryin' on_

He began to think of those he was closest to, or at least had been when he was living with them. His uncle, three female cousins, and godfather had all gone their separate ways after the full house phase of their lives had ended, even though they continued to be in close contact with one another.

_You stand in the line just to hit a new low  
You're faking a smile with the coffee to go  
You tell me your life's been way off line  
You're falling to pieces everytime  
And I don't need no carryin' on_

His Uncle Danny who was fifty-two was the only occupant in the house on Gerard Street. That had been until he had met Dianne Jacobson, a forty-eight year old widower with three sons, in an uncannily similar situation as him. After her husband had died of lung cancer, Dianne had asked his sister and her roommate from college to move in to help out with the boys. Her youngest son had just left for college, and she had found herself in the same "empty-nest" stage as Danny. They had been married within five months of meeting. Alex had never known his Aunt Pamela, but had heard many stories, and, from what he gathered, Dianne was a lot like her.

_Cause you had a bad day  
You're taking one down  
You sing a sad song just to turn it around  
You say you don't know  
You tell me don't lie  
You work at a smile and you go for a ride  
You had a bad day  
The camera don't lie  
You're coming back down and you really don't mind  
You had a bad day  
You had a bad day  
_  
His father's radio show co-host, Joey Gladstone, had been married to Mackenzie Lewis, a sports writer for the _San Francisco Examiner_, for as long as Alex could remember. A vivacious brunette with green eyes who shared Joey's zest for life, Mackenzie was twelve years his junior. Naturally, being almost forty around the time of their wedding, Joey had wanted kids, and fast. However, a twenty-seven year old Mackenzie had made him wait a few years, and it had been worth it. Their first child, a boy named Robert Alvin, was nine years old, and resembled Mackenzie in almost everyway, but had inherited his father's love for hockey. Two years, later, they had been pleasantly surprised to welcome twin girls, Allyson Danielle and Christine Marie. As Nick and Alex could relate, the girls hated being treated as one person when they were as different as day and night. Ally was blond, comedic, and very friendly like her father, while Christy was chestnut-haired, quiet, and artistic like her mother. Although Mackenzie had insisted she was finished after the twins, Joey had convinced her to try one more time for another son. He had gotten his wish when Adam Edward was born. The six of them were living very happily in a house not too far from Danny and Dianne.

_Well you need a blue sky holiday  
The point is they laugh at what you say  
And I don't need no carryin' on_

Alex's oldest cousin, DJ, who anybody outside of the family now referred to as Donna, had graduated from the University of California in Berkeley with a degree in psychology. Alex couldn't remember too much about when she lived in the house, but he did recall always seeing her boyfriend, Steve Hale, at her side. DJ and Steve had married when she was twenty-five and he was twenty-seven. A year later, after DJ had joined the San Francisco children's health system, and Steve was climbing high in his advertising career, DJ had become pregnant with their first child, a boy named Steven Jesse, whom Alex's own parents were the godparents of. Then, when DJ was twenty-nine, she had given birth to their second son, Charles Tyler, who was now three. The four of them lived in a spacious apartment a few blocks down from the Katsopolises.

_You had a bad day  
You're taking one down  
You sing a sad song just to turn it around  
You say you don't know  
You tell me don't lie  
You work at a smile and you go for a ride  
You had a bad day  
The camera don't lie  
You're coming back down and you really don't mind  
You had a bad day  
Oh, holiday_

Then there was Stephanie, who Alex remembered leaving for college. To pursue her dual love of math and art by going into architecture, Stephanie had attended the University of San Diego, a campus a little farther than her father would have liked. Her sophomore year, Stephanie had fallen in love with a handsome law student, Gregory Martens, who was four years her senior. Greg was of mixed descent, with an African American father and Caucasian mother, as well as a family history of successful attorneys. Greg had proposed the night Stephanie graduated, when she had been twenty-three. Two years later, after Stephanie had landed her first job at an architectural firm in the San Diego area, and Greg had graduated from law school to join his grandfather's firm, the two of them married and moved into a picturesque condominium by the Pacific Ocean. Stephanie, who was now twenty-eight years old, had recently announced that she was two months pregnant with their first child.

_Sometimes the system goes on the blink  
And the whole thing turns out wrong  
You might not make it back and you know  
That you could be well oh that strong  
And I'm not wrong_

Compared with her family-oriented older sisters, Michelle Tanner was another story. Alex remembered how disappointed he had been when Michelle left for college in Colorado a year early. Five years later, she had not returned to San Francisco, but had written her father every now and then, and appeared to be doing great.

_So where is the passion when you need it the most  
Oh you and I  
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost_

Alex sighed as he thought of how happy they all were, even with the hardships. He would have given anything to have something in his life, preferably a woman and a passion, that could define him and supply him with lifelong happiness. They all made it look so easy.

_Cause you had a bad day  
You're taking one down  
You sing a sad song just to turn it around  
You say you don't know  
You tell me don't lie  
You work at a smile and you go for a ride  
You had a bad day  
You've seen what you like  
And how does it feel for one more time  
You had a bad day  
You had a bad day  
Had a bad day_

* * *

Alex was watching his _Lost_ Season One DVD on his little brother's player. Davie had forgiven his big brother, especially after he had how upset Alex had been while apologizing and saying that he was going through a hard time. 

Alex paused the disc when he heard a knock at his door. "Come in." He lifted his favorite Berkeley mug that DJ had given him, and sipped the remnants of his cooled hot chocolate. The door opened, and Alex bit back a sigh when he saw his father. Jesse walked forward and sat on his son's bed.

"Your mom told me you had a bad day." In response, Alex shrugged indifferently, wishing his father hadn't reminded him. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Alex mumbled, turning back to the screen.

Jesse then said, "I hope you're telling the truth about him not getting physical, because I want you to know, he _will_ be hearing from me if he laid a hand on you-"

"Dad, he didn't," Alex insisted, exasperated, turning back to face him. "Okay?"

"Okay then," Jesse said, nodding. After an uncomfortable pause, he spoke again. "Goodnight, Alex. I hope tomorrow is a better day for you." When his son just nodded, Jesse stood up and quietly left the room.

Alex stared after the path in which his father had left. He was almost certain that Becky had given him a talking-to about not mentioning being masculine and "sucking it up" before coming up to talk to him. Alex wasn't sure why, but no matter how hard he tried, every word that came out of Jesse's mouth was interpreted as irritating. He felt bad about it, but didn't know how to control it. It had been the underlying basis for many of their arguments over the years. His mother and brothers didn't understand it anymore than he did, and Becky had suggested several times that Alex take his father in with him to the social worker he met with. Alex had been taking medication and undergoing counseling to deal with himself for about a year. But it never seemed to work, especially not when it came to his relationship with his father.

Sighing as he realized he was hungry, Alex gently removed his kitten from his lap and set it on his pillow. Setting aside the DVD player, he walked out his door and downstairs, noting that the hallway was dark, and the doors to his parents' and Davie's rooms were closed.

Oblivious to the sound of their teenage son tiptoeing downstairs, Becky and Jesse were chatting in their room. "I'll never understand what I do that's so terrible. I'm not a bad guy, am I, Beck?" Jesse asked his wife and he took off his leather jacket to change for bed.

Becky was in their bed, clad in her pajamas, with her open book lying across her lap. "He's had a bad day, honey. Just go easy on him."

"I don't mean just tonight, and you know it. Something has to be done about his attitude. I just . . . I just don't want my son to grow up estranged from me without ever knowing why." Once Jesse was dressed for bed, he crawled in beside his wife and leaned his head back. "I mean, our other sons tolerate me and don't, well, just hate life."

"He's going to be fine, because we're going to help him and love him, no matter what. But, in order for that to work, he's got to want to help himself," Becky pointed out. "And I think I have the perfect idea . . ."

* * *

Alex entered the darkened kitchen, which was silent, save for Nick gabbing on his cell phone on the back porch. Alex walked over to the pantry, seeing that his mother needed to go grocery shopping, as it was almost empty. Having a hankering for something warm and sweet, Alex mentally debated baking some instant chocolate chip muffins. 

When he finally decided to just have some pretzels, Nick opened the door to the porch and saw his brother. "Hey, want to shoot some pool with me?"

Alex turned his head to reply. "Not really. I'm just about to go back to vegetating."

"Please? I'm bored."

"It's only ten o'clock. Don't you still have another phone appointment with Jenna?"

"Ah, we're not really talking right now."

"Why, did you refuse to pay for this week's worth of gas?" Alex found it amusing that the only time Nick ever spent money was to wait on his girlfriend's hand and foot, even when her parent's were millionaires.

"It's actually more complicated than that. I won't stop being friends with Mike, because he likes to pretend her pajmina is a shoe shiner."

"Okay . . ." Alex pulled out the pretzels.

"Anyways, please? I'll let you break."

Alex finally agreed, as he knew he wouldn't feel any better if he just laid on his bed feeling sorry for himself and chowing down on snacks. Once they were down in the basement in the room dominated by the large table, Nick started talking about his girlfriend again.

"I don't understand why she doesn't think I shouldn't be okay with her practically sticking her hand down other guys' pants. If I do so much as ask a girl to borrow scissors, she lectures me." Nick continued to describe the crises of his social life. Alex secretly would have given anything to exchange his brother's "problems" with his own.

Finally the conversation shifted as Nick took his turn. "So, Mom told me about what happened at work." He finally had Alex's real attention. "Don't let the dickhead get you down. If anything, you should go back there and show him what you're made of by refusing to quit." He then sunk two balls.

Alex suddenly didn't feel like playing anymore. He set aside his cue stick. "Okay, I'm done."

"Man, you always do this!" Nick complained.

"What?"

"You always give up if something goes wrong. Don't stop just because I'm beating you . . . for the fifth time in a row."

Alex ignored that there was meaning in that criticism, but he had had enough. So all he did was irritably reply, "Whatever," and leave.

Alex was halfway up the stairs when the phone rang. He ran into the kitchen and removed it from its cradle to answer it. "Hello?"

"Yes, is Alexander there, please?"

Alex felt his stomach turn to ice. He knew that voice. "Uh, yes, this is he."

"Yes, this is Bob Sheridan from CVS Pharmacy. I just wanted to call and apologize for firing you on the spot. See I had one too many employee spots, and, although it was in poor taste, I thought it was the only way."

Alex wanted to gag, but forced himself to answer. "Oh?"

"Yes, and although what I did was wrong, I gotta tell you, kid, you're going to get a lot of it in the real world. I thought I'd just give you fair warning. And by the way, I'm willing to let you come back if you really need the job."

"Uh, no, I actually need to focus more in school, because my grades are slipping, but thanks." Alex hung up the phone, unable to refrain from feeling low. He wished Sheridan had just left it at the apology, but it didn't matter. Alex still felt stupid for making a big deal out of it anyway.

Wishing he could go to bed and sleep the next few days away, Alex made his way toward the stairs, and noticed Salem, who must have snuck downstairs, following him in his tracks.

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed it! First off, I just want to say that Alex is NOT a loser, he's just lost. And, to give you fair warning, his problems may seem pretty mild at first, but he will gradually take a downward turn. Also, you will find out in the next few chapters of the past of one of the main characters, who will find that they can really relate to Alex.

Please R&R!


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